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Whitewater/Read
Prologue One summer day in 2010, the sun was unusually bright. It wafted through the hazy California sky until it hit a scorched cattle ranch in a rather isolated part of south central California. One of the ranch hands was riding his horse through the vast, lush countryside. “Well, golllee, it’s sure hawt out today!” he moaned, wiping his sweaty forehead with his already sweaty hand and taking a long drink from his nearly empty water bottle, which was perched precariously in his overalls pocket. He fanned his straw hat, but it did no good. He rode up to the farmhouse and got a refill. Inside he met Billy, the man in charge of the entire ranch. “Hey, Clem. Glad ta see you back,” Billy greeted Clem. Clem gave a crooked smile, then replied, “Yep. I came inside to get a drink b’fore I go spread manure.” “Actually, take off that there overalls and change into your suit. The owner is comin’ t’day!” “Huh?” “Well, I’m actually not ownin’ this here purty land, I’m renting it. The owner is this fancy bloke, I forget his name… Anyways, he wanna sell this! Sick of it!” “That mean we gotta clear out?” “Exactly! But, we still gotta chance to either talk ‘im out of it, or buy the land ourselves. I want you to help me.” “Ok. When’s he comin?” “Any min, so go change!” Clem shrugged and changed into his fancy black suit so that he actually looked presentable. Unfortunately, he forgot to put on any sort of deodorant. The doorbell rang, and Billy ran to it and creaked it open. It was the owner, who was wearing a long black suit, pants, hat, and sunglasses, along with a black briefcase. His face was hidden by the long brim of his hat. Billy welcomed him with, “Well, gollleee, aren’t you frying ta death like an ant on a griddle? Com’n een and have a drink of my finest limonade!” The owner nodded and entered. He sat down stiffly at the rickety wooden table while Billy managed to serve lemonade without spilling it on the owner’s front. The owner eyed the dirty glass with disgust before speaking. “I am not wanting to discuss anything with you, William…” Billy interrupted, “Billy, sir!” “Do not interrupt me!” “Sorry…” “The deal is being closed… you are having twenty-four hours to be vacating the premises.” “But-” “TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, NO MORE, NO LESS.” “C-can I at least know who you are selling the land to?” “Very well, it is being the noble group ‘The Hi23s’. Rest assured that they don’t want idiots ruining their land.” Billy was about to retort, but he closed his mouth and choked out as politely as he could muster, “W-w-why are you selling it again?” “I do not wish to share that information with you at this present moment.” “Well then, can you please tell me how these people are?” “The Hi23s are a noble group of extraordinarily intelligent people, some of whom have extraordinary powers. Not much history is beingk known to them, but rumor has it that they may be aliens. Be it as it may, they are wanting to be taking over this slice of California for their own personal use, and it is extremely and highly unlikely that they would continue to require the use of you idiot ranchers any longer! “Remember, pack everything you own in twenty-four hours, otherwise the remaining equipment will be given to the Hi23s. You may, however, attend the property transfer ceremony tomorrow at six o’clock, no later.” He stood up, not having touched his lemonade. “Twenty-four hours,” he stated once more. He exited, not having even shown his face. Billy stood cemented to the floor, mouth still open. Clem drank the owner’s lemonade. Finally Billy was able to speak. “We have to leave? Where will we go!?!?!” Clem sighed. “I dunno.” “I guess our lives here are over…” At that moment another person clamored inside. Clem cried, “MA!!!!!!” ‘Ma’ said, “Aww, come here Clem and give your mommy a hug!” Clem obeyed, but he said worriedly to her, “We have to leave today!” Ma stopped the hug and looked at him closely. “What! We have to leave today? Is it that fancypants owner? Why, if he threatens my boy one more time…” Billy cleared his throat significantly. Ma stopped her rant. Billy announced, “We can join the redneck community at Crater Lake up in Oregon. It’s a step down, but y’all can manage it…” Ma looked at Clem, then to Billy, and resigned. “I guess it for da best…” Billy shook his head, then started folding the table. Clem sighed and started to dismantle the mini fridge. Ma immediately yelled, “I don’t want my boy gettin’ hurt by one of those new-fangled fridgeders! Step away from dat this instant!” Clem stuttered, “M-m-m-ma, I know what to do. I won’t get no hurt.” Ma frowned at him, then threw up her hands and packed all her clothes. The other ten ranch hands took down all the outdoor equipment…. It was a sad day for Billy, who had proudly rented this thriving ranch for nothing less than ten years. The next day, in the extensive base of the Hi23s... “You realize, Denny, that the ceremony is in six hours?” Mr. Sprarie said, exasperated. Denny was chewing on his lunch, still. “Sorry, sir,” he said thickly, “I’m hungry.” “You… are an android. ANDROIDS DON’T NEED TO EAT!” “You designed me! It’s not my fault that you gave me an eating program.” “Whatever… let’s just get a move on. We don’t have all day!” Mr. Sprarie returned to his mindless pacing. “Gah… I wish that Pegen would hurry up in the shower. He’s bald, yet he takes longer than I!” DeJa Vu shrugged, then swallowed the last bit of his extensive meal. “I need to see Peack for a moment, sir. I need to borrow one of his suits!” “What happened to your LAST one?” DeJa Vu grimaced. “Remember that oil spill last winter?” Mr. Sprarie nodded. “How could I forget? That was the end of several of my favorite suits, also.” He checked the time, sighed, then left to go pound on the bathroom door. Mr. Sprarie, or Max Isaac Sprarie Two, is a middle-aged man and the head of Booten, a subsidiary of the Hi23s. Booten was a company that provided excellent computer engineering. In Mr. Sprarie’s spare time, he and his android assistant, Denny Jacques Vundar, or DeJa VU for short, would invent ludicrous yet brilliant accessories to help the quality of life. Mr. Sprarie was a clean-cut man from the neck down, wearing clean suits with a variety of colors with the usual black pants. He wears the same black tie every day of the week. He has a magnificent moustache and bushy eyebrows and a large quantity of gray hair, along with thick glasses that are often lopsided. DeJa Vu is 23 years old, and he wears the exact same outfit as Mr. Sprarie, without glasses or facial hair. He has plain brown hair. Countless times he has added weird and amusing tweaks to his appearance; lately he was wearing lights on his head the flashed ‘DeJa Vu’ intermittently. All of the Hi23 so-called Royal Family, or the Presidency, resided in a top-floor room in the prestigious Sky Tower, an enormous skyscraper that was reminiscent of the Space Needle. The Hi23 Presidency room was divided in two; one house for Booten heads, one house for Pegen and his cronies. Their room was gigantic; having three bedrooms with two queen beds each, three-and-a-half baths, five different sitting rooms, and the most modern technical supplies, like the 7-foot TV and the extensive kitchen, which was not unlike one you might see on Food Network shows. The actual Hi23 Presidency was formed by many tiers of people: Max Sprarie and Pegen Waukegan make the top, Denny Vundar and Ericaza Samurai were their VP’s, respectively, Peack Hughes was the ‘best general’, Vertical Rainbow was the House Improvement Associate, Seafine Salt was the DNR, DOT, DMV, and FBI head, Bliss Wenston was in charge of weaponry, and so on, so forth. As mentioned earlier, this particular day holds the ceremony where the aforementioned land will be given to Mr. Sprarie. DeJa Vu bustled back into the main room, shouting, “Sir, should I get Vertical to take a shower now?” He was not met with Mr. Sprarie, though. Just Pegen sitting by the kitchen table, kicking off it and rocking precariously. “Sorry, Mr. Waukegan…” Pegen ate a tomato, which he is crazy for. “Quite all right, DeJa Vu.” “So Sir got in the shower, then?” “Yeah, stupid Seafine spent forever in the shower where I keep my soap! It’s probably because I tripped him last week… Anyways, Sprarie has the only other soap that doesn’t make me smell weird… No offense, DeJa Vu… So I had to use his shower!” “I’m getting pretty sick of Seafine, being a jerk just because he’s the charge of the FBI.” “Mm hmm, only weirdos are in the DNR, anyways.” Their conversation was interrupted by Mr. Sprarie exiting the shower, fully dressed for the ceremony. He startled everyone by exploding, “WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING!?!?!?! THE CEREMONY IS IN FIVE HOURS!” DeJa Vu was too shocked to say anything, but Pegen snorted and replied cooly, “Keep your pants on, Sprarie. We don’t have anything to do!” Mr. Sprarie was outraged. “What about your SPEECH?” Pegen screamed. “OH NO! I forgot my speech!” Mr. Sprarie snarled, “Get to work on it NOW!” When he turned, Pegen gave him a dirty look. For the next five hours, Mr. Sprarie ran around in a frenzy, overpreparing for the ceremony. And before he knew it, all of the senior staff was speeding off to Whitewater! On the whole fancy limo ride there, Mr. Sprarie kept badgering the others about miniscule details he might have missed. He kept asking DeJa Vu, “Did you bring your backup backup speech just in case some Turkmenistan people are offended by that one phrase?” DeJa Vu rolled his eyes. “Yes…” “Did you remember to bring the gelatin mold in the shape of Whitewater?” “YES!” DeJa Vu roared, glaring at Mr. Sprarie. “Did you remember to take your backup gun just in case?” “FOR THE LAST TIME, YES!” Mr. Sprarie chided, “That’s not how you talk to your superior!” DeJa Vu sighed. “Yes, sir.” Several moments of pleasant silence passed before Mr. Sprarie’s next question. “Did you remember to lock the doors?” “Y-AWW, ****!” Mr. Sprarie was driven to more anxiousness with this statement. He nagged the driver to turn around, but at that point they were halfway there and turning around would mean they would be fifteen minutes late. So he returned to badgering DeJa Vu, who turned on his hidden MP3 players to block out his noise. When Mr. Sprarie and DeJa Vu arrived at the dilapidated farmhouse, Mr. Sprarie was outraged. “WHERE IS WAUKEGAN!?” he screeched at DeJa Vu. DeJa Vu shrugged. “I dunno, he’s always late. He’ll probably come up with the usual excuse: ‘I saw that Arby’s had a sale on their tomato sandwiches!’. I don’t think it’ll work this time, though. It looks like there’s food here.” Mr. Sprarie nodded, hyperventilating. DeJa Vu tried to call him. “Look, sir, there's nothing to worry about!” “Yes… well…” He was interrupted by three more limos of exact design pulling into the gravel parking lot. Out came Peack, Bliss, Ericaza, Seafine, and to Mr. Sprarie’s relief, Pegen, ready to go. So everyone walked behind the farmhouse, where Billy and Clem built a makeshift stage which was covered in cheap party favors. A banner that read ‘Congrats for Selling This Place’ suspiciously looked as if it had been written by ketchup and mustard. Also, there were several tear stains on it. Billy, Clem, and the others were currently setting up tables and chairs while Ma cooked hams and turkeys. The owner, still shrouded in his black clothes, was standing on the stage, staring at the banner, which had just dripped a large bit of mustard onto the stage, so that the ‘G’ in ‘Congrats’ was missing. “Con rats for Selling This Place? Are they calling us rats?” Pegen asked indignantly. Mr. Sprarie rolled his eyes, as this was another feeble attempt of Pegen’s to cause trouble and/or sue someone so he could add to his pile of money. Mr. Sprarie elbowed him, but continued walking toward the disgusted owner, and reprimanded Pegen out of the corner of his mouth. “Shut up, Pegen… we don’t want this deal to fall through. I’m sick of covering for you!” Pegen could not retort for they were on the stage. The owner turned around, and clapped his hands together. “Aah!” he said. “Balmy night, eh?” Mr. Sprarie smiled and shook his hand, but Pegen sulked in a corner. “Good to see you… well.. Not really, because you’re hiding under that hood.” The owner nodded. “Yes. Max, you know how these ranchers are… weirdos! I don’t want them knowing who I am…” “Take it off, come on…” The owner sighed, and pulled down his hood. Mr. Sprarie’s eyes widened in surprise. “N-n-not you??” He nodded. “Yes. Horst Beyersdorf, or H.B.… pleased to be meetingk you!” “Er… you seem rather familiar…” H.B. raised his eyebrows. “Likevise! I am vondereengk vhere? Perhaps-” Pegen interrupted. “Excuse me, who are you?” Horst, or H.B., hesitated. He had a scarred face, with a menacing profile, even if he was smiling. He had rather bristly dark hair that was buzzed cut. A pistol was in clear view on his belt. “I am beingk a German, obviously. I have vorked under dragons as ze chief of zecurity many years ago. Zeence zen, I have been investing mein large fortune in land ownership. I got a fair price for zees one!” He chuckled, and patted Mr. Sprarie’s shoulder mildly, but Mr. Sprarie nearly fell over anyways. Pegen rolled his eyes. “What-ever. ...wait, what’s this about dragons??” DeJa Vu, like a good android, began his monologue. “Dragons, or Draco Firino Claude, are reptiles of about 7-10 feet in height. The Fire Dragons are much more common than Water Dragons, and are bigger, too. Fire Dragons have black, flexible scales, smallish eyes, spines from the forehead down to the tail, and sharp clawed feet and paws. Not much information is known about dragons, since most have gone into hiding since a secret war in the late 19th century.” Mr. Sprarie looked indifferent, but Pegen looked extremely shocked. Pegen spluttered, “B-but, DRAGONS!? I mean, what!?” Mr. Sprarie ignored Pegen and asked H.B., “Where did you work?” H.B. shrugged. “I am not knowingk zat… eet vos too long ago… “Anyvays, I eexpect you guys are beingk hungry!” Pegen forgot his terror momentarily with the prospect of food. “WHERE?” he asked excitedly, and was shown the buffet table that Billy and Clem had just lugged out. The conversation at the table turned in a direction most embarassing for Pegen. H.B. asked, “So, er, Pehgen… you look vierd!” Pegen sighed. He had a large head, with slightly lopsided eyes, and his entire face was rather greenish. He had no neck, either. Pegen replied as politely as he could. “I used to work in Booten, and invent strange new chemicals. Once I got a face full, and… my face got pretty grotesque. Plastic surgery fixed most of it… but I still look like I’m 40 when I’m only 27.” H.B. nodded, and looked as if he wanted to pursue the topic, but Mr. Sprarie shook his head. H.B. turned his attention to Peack instead. “You, zere. I can tell you’re not human!” Rather than being embarrassed, Peack nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I’m an android, like DeJa Vu, except more advanced in the field of power, rather than intelligence.” Peack was obviously an artificial life form, since his entire body was a bluish hue and had two slightly visible antennae protruding from the top of his head. When H.B. tapped him, it gave a ping sound. H.B. nodded. “You are fery interesting! Vat about your tvin?” Bliss was the exact same as Peack, except she was black. Peack introduced, “This is Bliss, my hopeful fiancee. She is extremely powerful also… but…” He leaned across the table and whispered to H.B., “she’s got an awful temper, and half the time I have to nearly fight her to keep her in check.” H.B. smiled, and shook both hands; Bliss was a bit reluctant, but Peack coaxed her. Ericaza shook his hand also, and said in a slight British accent, “I am Ericaza Samurai, and I’ve done a lot of work settling this deal.” H.B. nodded, and replied, “Yez, Max told me zat I vould be meetingk you here. You zeem fery smart, yes?” Ericaza beamed at being called smart, and said, “Yes, I am 65, and I have done a lot for Booten and the Hi23s for over forty years!” Ericaza looked it, too, his face was worn and wrinkled, and one of his eyes was covered in a flashy monocle, he wore a neat green suit, and he had a stylish cane to help him walk. “I helped end the Dragon War, remember?” H.B. said, “No, I left before then. Pleased to meet you, though! “And your name is…?” He gestured to Seafine, who seemed rather annoyed at having his mindless daydreaming interrupted. Seafine curtly replied, “My name is Seafine Salt, and I am also a weapons expert and chief of security! I’m in charge of many departments, whatever, and leave me alone, I’m trying to fantasize about something!” Seafine had a slightly elongated head, and he alone seemed to possess a bizarre power, since he had two tiny yellow tubes sticking out of the side of his head, which could produce water. He had drawn his suit collar up around them. He was rather good-looking, but with a small childish gleam in his eyes. H.B. seemed rather shocked at the abrupt end of this conversation, but continued unabashed to Vertical. “Who are you beingk?” H.B. asked. Vertical replied, “Well, I’m just in charge of everything that happens within our giant tower, and things like that. I’m not too interesting.” Vertical was an amazingly skinny young man who was always cheerful, a direct contrast from the surly Seafine next to him. H.B. shook hands with everyone again, and having finished all the introductions, began his meal, and started condemning the ranchers’ taste in food, cleanliness, and other demeaning topics while the ranchers got everything into their rusted pickup truck. Billy said, “I hate to interrupt, but sir, can we get the ceremony done?” H.B. nodded while he ate even more ‘wiener-schnitzel’, and took a long drink from his wine glass before responding. H.B. replied, “Sure, leet’s just be eatingk ze last bit of ze food, sall ve?” H.B. seemed a little tipsy as he made Billy sit down. Billy sat a little stiffly as H.B. asked loudly, spilling half-eaten sausage down his front, “So vhere -hic- you goingk after -hic- zis?” It was Billy’s turn to give H.B. a disgusted look, even though he wasn’t nearly as dirty as Billy, who had visible manure stains on his pants. “We are going to (Hyuk!) Crater Lake…” H.B. interrupted, “Bah, ze redneck zettlement? Up in Oregon!?!?” “Well, we can’t go anywhere else, thanks to y’all fancy schemes!” “Good point. Anyvays, be havingk vun zere. I am beingk truly sorry for kickingk you off zis land, but Max vas just offeringk zuch a good price, and, I am not vone to pass up zuch an amazing deal!” Billy nodded, and replied, “Of course,” very politely given the circumstances, but his slight smile afterwards did not reach his cold eyes. “Do not be saure trauben! Ask Max if you can stay here…” Mr. Sprarie smiled sadly at the hopeful Billy. “Sorry! We have big plans!” H.B. rescued the sausage, and after eating it and increasing his drunkenness, asked, “Vhat are zose plans beingk?” Seafine piped up crabbily, “Confidential to the likes of you ekelhaft narren at this present time.” Max nodded. H.B. ate the rest of his meal in silence, then doused his drunkenness with a good deal from water form the hose. “Okay,” he said when he finished. “Let’s go do this ceremony before it gets too late.” Pegen agreed, “Yes, the new season of-” Mr. Sprarie elbowed him again. Mr. Sprarie and H.B. climbed onto the stage, one dry and one wet. The banner now read ‘Cats fell his lace’. The ranchers and the remaining senior staff sat down in front of the stage. Pegen whispered to Peack, “Now is the banner implying that some cats are going to trip over their shoelaces soon?” Peack replied, “Nice joke, Pegen…” without really meaning it. “I wasn’t joking…” Pegen muttered, but Peack pretended not to hear. H.B. began the ceremony by dramatically shouting into the microphone, “Today eez a significant day in ze history of ze vorld! A beautiful slice of California, called Vhitevater due to ze several vatervalls along ze B.W. River, is under new leadership! Vor just $25 million, Max Sprarie-” He caught Mr. Sprarie in a one-armed hug unexpectedly, and Mr. Sprarie fell over. Pegen shook his head and ran onto the stage and righted him. “Hey!” DeJa Vu whispered indignantly at him. “I wanted to fix him, I’m his assistant!” Pegen replied, “Big deal! Just pay attention to the drunk German now.” H.B. continued, “-vas beingk a great sport and bought zis place vrom me!” Everyone cheered, including the ranchers, but they were obviously just trying to be polite. H.B. said, “Perhaps before I hand ze speech over to Max, I should be explaingk vhat Vhitevater actually eez beingk!” Seafine shouted, “How about you try talking in a normal voice for once? I can’t understand you one bit!” H.B. seemed a bit angry at this remark, but recovered quickly. “Very vell, if you vish, perhaps DeJa Vu vill be kind enough to explain?” DeJa Vu nodded and walked onto the stage, meanwhile Mr. Sprarie apologized for Seafine to H.B. Seafine was very pleased with himself. DeJa Vu began his speech. “I have several files in my data logs that are centered around Whitewater. I will shorten them sufficiently so that we can all get out of here by 8:30. “Whitewater is a large expanse of wilderness in south central California, about 25x25 miles. It has been kept isolated for over 150 years, due to the presence of an endangered life form, the Draco Firino Claude, or Fire Dragon.” A collective gasp was heard from the crowd. DeJa Vu plowed on as if nothing had happened. “Whitewater holds a small population of dragons, about 15, as of 2003, so my information is not current. Apparently most dragons have abandoned the land recently and settled on a floating mass of rock, known as the Dragon Mall, which is up in Oregon. It was formed when Mt. Mall blew its top and some of the lava and ash refused to fall. A detailed explanation of this was not programmed. “Whitewater is now basically a lush refuge for lots of wildlife, including a large river with, as H.B. said, several waterfalls. It borders on a small town to the north, dubbed Olde Dublin, and the east side steadily become rockier and drier until it reaches Death Valley. In the year 2000, Horst Beyersdorf, as we have seen, bought the land and rented it to several ranchers who farmed the land somewhat.” Billy interrupted, “Actually, we don’t go nowhere here. We only go out ‘bout five miles!” “That is rather unfortunate. Before 2000, I have little record of this mysterious place, but I am sure that the Hi23 will find great uses for it!” H.B. started the applause, which everyone politely joined. H.B. yelled, “Bravo! Zat vas beingk a marvelous speech, DeJa Vu!” The sky was darkening rapidly, so Pegen suggested that everyone go home. Mr. Sprarie shook H.B.’s hand one more time. “Pleasure meeting you, H.B.! I hope I can figure out when I have seen you before.” “Likevise, Max.” “So where are you going after this?” “Vell, I vas vantingk to go on vacation to Oregon, but ze Bahamas aer offeringk much better veather…” “Why don’t you go to Oregon? Then we can still keep in touch!” “Fery good point, Max! I am seeingk vhy you are havingk several Ph. D's!” “People say that to me a lot…” “I can be seeingk zat.” Seafine interjected, “I love to interrupt the chitty-chat, but the new season of-” Mr. Sprarie sighed. “Okay, okay… Goodbye, H.B.!” H.B. waved back. And as the Hi23s drove off in the sunset, H.B. got into his flashy car and sped off in the opposite direction. Billy and Clem cleaned everything up. And they too abandoned Whitewater, never to come back again… In the car, as they drove off toward Oregon, Billy cried, “I just cannot be-LEEVE we ain’t never goin’ back!” He slammed the steering wheel a couple times for good measure, almost setting off the airbag. Clem nodded, staring wistfully at the dot on the horizon where the house stood. Ma complained, “I don’t see what this ‘Crater Lake’ is gonna offer us to make our LIFE better!” She gave Clem a strangling hug. “Now, my boy needs-” Clem shook her off “Ma, I don’t need no comfort. I’m a MAN, now!” Billy turned to the others, “Stop talking! I need to focus on the road!” So the car fell into silence, with only the occasional glare between Ma and Clem. That night, in the Presidency room, Pegen and DeJa Vu were watching TV together. Pegen obviously was not thinking about the show, even though he had been hyped about it for a month. He was thinking about Whitewater. “It seems pretty interesting, don’t you think?” DeJa Vu replied, “Yes,” but he was much more interested in the current scene involving a large machine gun being admired. Pegen took no notice of this mechanical response and plowed on, “I mean, dragons living there? Weird! I can’t wait to see what’s in there!” DeJa Vu now gave Pegen his full attention, due to the show ending. “Yes. Unfortunately, you don’t get to go.” Pegen yelped, “What!? “Oh, look, the writer was ‘Horst Beyersdorf’, you know, the guy we bought Whitewater from?” DeJa Vu’s eyes widened in surprise, but he paid little regard to the credits afterwards. He said, “Mr. Sprarie is in charge of electing people to go. He said that one vice-president will go, and he will choose up to six others to take along. “So either me or Ericaza. But Ericaza is old, I would be a much better candidate.” “I dunno, don’t you have to like make Sprarie breakfast and cut his toenails?” DeJa Vu frowned. “What made you think that? Just because Ericaza does that for you-” He had gone too far. Pegen roared, “Stop treading on my hospitality if you’re going to insult me! Ericaza doesn’t do that! GET OUT!” DeJa Vu went back to his own room, laughing. Pegen sulked on his couch before he retired. The next morning, DeJa Vu was met with bad news. “Ericaza won,” Mr. Sprarie greeted DeJa Vu while incessantly buttering a pancake. DeJa Vu dropped the glass that he had been about to fill with orange juice, and it shattered. He took no notice of it, and indignantly screamed, “He WHAT???” “Ericaza won the raffle that decided which vice-president would be exploring Whitewater,” Mr. Sprarie clarified, and began to eat the pancake. “How come?” DeJa Vu demanded. Mr. Sprarie swallowed. “I need you to stay home and monitor their progress.” “Isn’t Ericaza a little too old?” Mr. Sprarie snapped, “Shut up, the decision has been made, and nothing you can do will reverse it!” The rest of breakfast was spent with both glaring at each other, until Peack waltzed in. “Guess what?” he asked happily. “WHAT?” DeJa Vu vented some of his anger. Peack was unabashed as he said, “Ericaza chose ME to go with him on the Whitewater excursion!” At the look on DeJa Vu’s face, he quickly added, “Sorry, DeJa Vu…” “It’s okay,” he responded gruffly but was obviously not fine with the day’s events. Peack turned to Mr. Sprarie. “Sir, he might take along Rowan, because he knows a lot about dragons - is that correct?” Mr. Sprarie nodded, and finished his second pancake. After swallowing, he replied, “Yes, he would be an excellent choice for this mission. “Also, there’s a meeting today at two o’clock that’s devoted entirely to Whitewater, so we should speak about the mission there, not while I am trying to eat.” Peack nodded, and skipped back to his room, but not before helping himself to the bacon that had just been cooked. DeJa Vu spent the morning walking around the extensive grounds. The large tower was built on a grassy knoll, which contained several underground floors for the Hi23s. On the outside, there were several houses scattered on the hillside. Behind the hill was a large forest, but crammed in the little space before it was a small outdoor waterpark, a mini-golf course, and a few batting cages. DeJa Vu was strolling among the batting cages when he heard something. “Ouch, me got hit! Geez, dese fings are not shafe. Me hope Pegen takes dem DOWN!” DeJa Vu grinned and walked into the batting cage, which contained a flustered Black Labrador with a red collar. “Hi, Nugget! Good morning!” DeJa Vu greeted warmly. Nugget muttered darkly, “You mean bad morning. Dese shtupid pitching machines keep hitting me in da head!” “Oh, it’s because you’re too small.” And it was true, Nugget was only six years old and could barely hold a bat as it was. Nugget put down the bat and sighed. “Me shtink. What’sh it worf having near-human intelligence and being a dog at da shame time if you can’t even DO anyfing!?” DeJa Vu joined Nugget on a bench, and said, “Remember how you got you near-human intelligence?” Nugget nodded. DeJa Vu said, “Would you like me to tell you the story again?” Nugget nodded once more. “It is a marvelous tale, and a great show of nature’s weird phenomena. “About six years ago, Mr. Sprarie was sitting in his lab, wondering what to do with his new puppy that he had just acquired. Of course, Mr. Sprarie thought that it would be interesting if he taught an animal to talk. I told him that he was crazy, but he shook me off and got his chemicals ready. “Next thing I knew, he was subjecting the poor thing - meaning you, to 45 ccs of oricadracestanastrneereastermanium, a substance he had formed the previous day. “It was formed with three shavings of titanium, a brick of palladium, a hunk of copper, a dragon’s claw off his middle toe, a burned Ace of Clubs card, a few drops of his own blood, ten different seeds each of nasturtiums and asters, one geranium, and four turnips. I believe there were a few cheese crackers, too, to make the chemical more bearable to drink. Oh yes,” he added, because Nugget looked shocked, “he made you drink that horrific mixture all the way down. And when you started having spasms due to the fact that you can’t eat palladium, he was forced to bail. “His ‘antidote’ consisted of a silver coin melted down, a jug of vinegar, a spoonful of ibuprofen, and fourteen different Nyquil pills! This time, you got very sick due to the fact that you were overdosed in medications you didn’t need. By now, Mr. Sprarie was swearing and I was screaming. “Mr. Sprarie took a beaker of sulfuric acid and dumped it down your throat. “Before your body could realize it, he had also thrown several cans of purple paint down there too. “I bellowed, ‘Are you trying to KILL him!?!’ “He merely shushed me and said, ‘Wait and see.’ And sure enough, within a few minutes you were normal again, lying on the table, a little weary, but normal. When presented with a large Milkbone, you said ‘Fanksh a lot’ and ate it. “Mr. Sprarie was giddy with success, even if you did have a weird voice and had dreadful grammar. “However… when he tried it on a Dachshund the next day, with the promise to its owner that it would be talking, it failed and the dog died. “To this day, no one knows why that particular convoluted mixture worked on you, and no one else, and even Mr. Sprarie doesn’t know why he picked those particular ingredients. “‘I just had a feeling that acid and paint would work,’ he told me.” Nugget smiled. “Me sho shpecial!” DeJa Vu nodded. “Incidentally, Nugget, did you hear about Whitewater?” “Yepper like pepper, me did! Me really really really want to go. Me already shigned up!” DeJa Vu knew that any mission with Nugget on it would be disastrous, but lied through his teeth when asked his opinion. And Nugget walked off, looking very happy. DeJa Vu could not believe how much time he spent with Nugget, and had to rush to be on time for lunch. After lunch, DeJa Vu and Mr. Sprarie trudged down to Conference Room 2, down on the first floor. In the elevator, they met Horizontal and Vertical, who were brothers. Horizontal was extremely fat and short, but Vertical was very tall and thin. Horizontal was wearing a tie-dyed shirt that was stretching ominously, even though it was XXL. Vertical had on a plain green polo shirt and was twisting a water bottle in his hands. Horizontal was stuffing his mouth with Oreo’s; he ate half the package during the ride in the elevator. Mr. Sprarie asked Vertical, “You going to the meeting?” Vertical replied, “Yes, Ericaza wanted us to go.” DeJa Vu was aghast. “Us? He wants Horizontal to go???” Horizontal looked angry, and he was very good at boxing, so DeJa Vu quickly said, “No offense.” Vertical coldly said, “Yes. He think we’ll be very important.” Horizontal sneered, “Some of us are not good enough to even go!” DeJa Vu almost used his super amazing mega ultra great awesome android super-strength on him, but he bottled his anger and was able to make it to the conference room without punching anything. “Simmer down, simmer down,” Pegen said lazily in the conference room once anyone arrived. The conference room was cramped, tan, and carpeted, with an old wooden table in the middle with several chairs around it. The wall opposite to the door contained a clock, two TV’S, a stereo, a broken coffee maker, and a small projector screen. Pegen sat down, along with Mr. Sprarie, DeJa Vu, Peack, Horizontal, Vertical, Rowan, Bliss, and Seafine. Ericaza turned off the lights and started a projection. The first slide showed Whitewater from an aerial. The river and its cliffed banks were visible, along with dense forests. Ericaza began the speech in a deep, peaceful voice. “Whitewater… a haven for wildlife, a refuge for plants, a home for dragons. A beautiful place in itself. We, meaning the Hi23s, were luck-” He was interrupted by Pegen, who had just taken a drink and slurped it unnecessarily loud. “Sorry,” he said. Ericaza continued. “The Hi23s were lucky enough to purchase this land for a formidable price, but a nice price all the same. Just last night-” Pegen cleared his throat extremely loud. “WILL YOU PLEASE?” Ericaza shouted. Pegen replied, “I’m sorry!” He snickered. Seafine slapped him, and was not reprimanded by anyone. Ericaza, once again, continued his speech. “Now that Pegen has stopped interrupting, we can get on with it! “Just last night, at the house at the edge of Whitewater, previous owner Horst Beyersdorf, in a delightful ceremony, officially gave the property to us.” Now he switched the slide to the next one, which showed the ranch, along with Clem riding on a horse. “For a decade, Horst has owned this land and not done anything with it, except rent it to a few ranchers who thrived. Unfortunately for them, they had to leave straightaway because we have big, big plans for this land!” Mr. Sprarie said, “I’ll take it from here. “Ericaza will choose up to six people to accompany him on a roughly three-month long mission around Whitewater.” “Three MONTHS?” exclaimed Seafine. “Yes, there is lots of research to be done! You will have minimal at most contact with us. It will be like a long camping trip. If you are gone for more than four months, we will rescue you. UNDERSTAND!?” he barked suddenly, making everyone jump. Ericaza stood up. “The people I have selected are as follows: “Peack Hughes, because we need an android on this mission.” Peack smiled and DeJa Vu scowled. “Rowan Tyran, due to his knowledge of dragons. “Seafine Salt, for tactical purposes. “Vertical and Horizontal Rainbow, to do the grunt work.” Rowan, Seafine, Peack, Vertical, and Horizontal joined Ericaza. “We will leave in two days,” Ericaza finished. Rowan asked, “I have a question. Why do we want this land?” Mr. Sprarie smiled, and exchanged a look with Pegen. “We just do,” he said. Seafine opened his mouth with the intention to retort, but Rowan elbowed him. Rowan replied, “Perhaps, it would help us on this mission that we would actually know!” “The only thing you have to do is explore. Once we know where everything is, we’ll tell you.” Pegen said, “It wouldn’t hurt to tell them!” “No,” Mr. Sprarie said firmly and settled the matter. Pegen sighed, and announced, “Meeting adjourned,” and the missioners decided to prepare for their trip. When Ericaza was en route to his room, he met a ruffled black lab. “Did me win?” Nugget asked as soon as Ericaza appeared in the corridor. Ericaza sighed, and lied, “We’ll see.” “Me know dat tone… Hey! Me losht??” Ericaza was forced to tell the truth. “Nugget, you’re a great dog and all, but you’re not needed on this trip! You’re more trouble than you’re worth.” Nugget was appalled. “What! Dat’sh not nishe...” Ericaza shoved Nugget out of the way and entered his room. Nugget scratched the door and yelled, “Hey! Open up!” for a half hour, but gave up after no response. He walked away, mumbling, “Me’ll show him…” Two days later, Ericaza and his group stood on the sloping driveway with their purple Chrysler Town and Country, ready to go. Ericaza confirmed the gear with Mr. Sprarie. “Right, then, we have a large load of personal gear, along with our cameras, notebooks, maps , and others.” Mr. Sprarie smiled. “Seems legit, then. Get on! See you in a few months!” Suddenly Bliss ran out, and hugged Peack. She worried, “We’ll have to postpone our wedding!” Peack nodded. “I’m sorry, Bliss, but this is really important! Also, I’m getting a bonus for doing this, so we can get to Hawaii afterwards. Okay?” Bliss whispered, “Okay.” If she could cry, she would be. Pegen muttered, “For once she shows a different emotion. Usually it’s irrational anger!” He got hit on the head with a metal fist just then, with Bliss screeching, “THAT’S FOR YOU, YOU INSENSITIVE CLOD!” And Bliss gave a half-hearted wave at the departing car. Inside the car, Ericaza, all dignity forgotten, yelled, “Finally! ROOOOOAD TRIP!” Vertical was shocked. “Geez, Ericaza, are you going crazy?” Ericaza smiled. “Nope. I used to be one of the best guitarists ever! I amassed an enormous CD collection for this trip.” He popped the first one in, and it ended up being a song from Need for Speed II. Rowan yelled over the music, as they sped 20 over the speed limit, “Why are we listening to this?” Ericaza turned it up all the way, and shouted back, “Because!” Luckily for them, they met no police officers, and they made it to the abandoned farmhouse intact. Ericaza shut off the music. “Okay,” he said. “There’s a dirt road that goes about three miles in. From there, we’ll have to either continue on foot or try to navigate through using the car.” Horizontal said, “I really hope we don’t have to walk!” He managed, with some difficulty, to yank his trunk out of the back and get out his DS that he had snuck on. “Funny…” he murmured. “I don’t remember having holes in my trunk!” But he swung it back into place in the cramped trunk and they started off again. Peack pleaded, “Please don’t turn on the music again! It’s giving me a circuitache.” Ericaza gave in. “All right, fine.” They continued in silence for a while, taking a visual of the area with their car-top camera. “I’m hungry,” complained Horizontal two minutes later. “Deal with it,” Peack replied, obviously preoccupied with his note taking. This area of Whitewater was not very interesting, it was just a plain forest with the usual deciduous trees and a ground cover consisting of ferns and a good deal of moss. Once in awhile they’d see a squirrel or a rabbit, but nothing else. “Where are all the dragons?” Horizontal moaned, since after finding his stash of snacks he needed to find something else to complain about. Seafine roared, “SHUT YOUR MOUTH!” Ericaza said, “Now, Seafine! That was an actual good question. Horizontal, we’re not likely to see any on our initial trip through here. Not until we really scour the area-” Peack interrupted. “Can you please keep your eyes on the road?” He was holding the steering wheel from his place in the passenger seat. Ericaza was looking back at Horizontal, who was in the back seat with Vertical. “Oh, sure,” he said and turned back to the wheel. Rowan and Seafine, in the middle seat, were in a silent competition on how many notes they could take. It got pretty heated after Rowan leaned over and scribbled all over Seafine’s extensive notes. Seafine went utterly ballistic, and Ericaza had to actually stop the car to settle it. Ericaza yelled over Seafine’s swears, “Stop!” It was not until Peack screamed, “SHUT UP!” when Seafine stopped. He didn’t dare cross Peack, who was glaring at Seafine. “He started it,” Seafine whined. Rowan tried to look innocent but smirked instead. Ericaza’s eye twitched, and he growled, “The next person who interferes with this mission will be forced to walk home. UNDERSTAND!?” Seafine muttered, “Fine…” and said some insults under his breath. Rowan agreed, “Okay,” and said sincerely to Seafine, “I’m sorry.” Seafine seemed as if he was facing an internal struggle at those words, but finally choked out, “I forgive you.” Ericaza and Peack smiled. Ericaza said, “Good. Now let’s get on with it!” And they were off again. Five minutes later they stopped. Seafine yelled crossly, “What is it this time??” He had been taking notes very scrupulously, but the sudden braking had caused him to put a line on some of his words. Ericaza said quietly, “It’s the river. Let’s take a look.” Everyone got out and peered over the edge, which was coated with spruces. They stood about thirty feet above the river on a red cliff. The opposite bank looked nearly identical. “It’s beautiful,” Horizontal whispered. They trooped back to the car, and they proceeded down the last mile of road there was. “Are we there yet?” Horizontal moaned. “Noper like roper!” Peack sang cheerily. “I wanna go home,” Horizontal pouted. Ericaza stopped the car so suddenly that Seafine completely ruined his notes and swore heavily. Ericaza turned around and smiled manically. “Remember what I said earlier?” Horizontal replied, “No.” “I said that the next person who complains will be forced to walk home.” Peack interrupted, “Actually, according to my Memory Log 421A-421.09O, what you actually said was, ‘The next person who interferes with this mission will be forced-’” Ericaza cut across, “Thank you, Peack, now Horizontal, get out of the car.” Horizontal didn’t budge. Seafine screamed, “GET OUT!” Horizontal began to cry, and Vertical had to try and calm him down while Ericaza drove off again. Seafine was making good progress with his notes again when Ericaza stopped the car yet again. Horizontal had been quiet for some time now, so Rowan asked what had happened while Seafine cursed openly about his notes being ruined again. Seafine screeched, “MY AWESOME NOTES HAVE BEEN RUINED ABOUT FIVE TIMES NOW!” Ericaza sighed. “I’m sorry, Seafine, we’re at the end of the road.” Rowan tried to cheer Seafine up. “Look at the bright side! We’ve always got my notes!” He showed his clipboard to Seafine. Rowan’s notes were not notes; just ten games of tic tac toe he had played with himself. Seafine exploded, “YOU IDIOT! YOUR NOTES ARE NOTHING BUT TIC TAC TOE!” Rowan asked indignantly, “What were your notes?” Seafine showed his brilliant, innovative, and expert notes, and Rowan wilted. Ericaza barked to the back, “THAT’S ENOUGH!” I’M SICK OF SETTLING YOUR PETTY SQUABBLES!” Seafine and Rowan stopped their childish fight and looked at him. Ericaza made a violent gesture to get out, but no one moved. Finally, Seafine got out of the car, but no one followed. Seafine asked, “Well? Isn’t anyone going to come out?” Ericaza nodded, and tried to get out, but his foot slipped on the gear shift, and the car shifted into ‘Drive’, and when Ericaza put his foot down to stabilize himself, he stepped on the gas pedal! Everyone yelled simultaneously, “NOOOOO!” but the damage was done; the car bolted at top speed toward the river. Unfortunately, the river was only twenty feet away, and before Ericaza could brake, the car shot into the air and fell into the water with an almighty SPLASH. Fortunately, Seafine followed, and without further ado, he dove into the water and swam rapidly toward the sinking car, where Horizontal was sobbing as hard as he could, and where Ericaza was feverishly jamming the gas pedal. The river was deeper than it looked, and the car would’ve taken all the passengers for their own if Seafine hadn’t courageously broken the windows and dragged them all to safety on a convenient island nearby. “Seafine, the luggage!” Vertical wailed, for he had packed several of his valuables. Seafine grumbled and dove again to retrieve the heavy trunks, and shoved them onto the island. Gasping for breath, everyone sat on the island and praised Seafine highly. Seafine seemed very cheerful after several minutes of compliments. Well, at least he wasn’t swearing anymore. But they were not alone on the island: From behind them came a voice: “Well, lookee what we have here!” Vertical screeched. Horizontal yelled. Seafine screamed. Ericaza got startled. Peack ran away. Rowan gasped. “G-GEEZ BELIZE!” everyone shouted in unison.